


We Go Together

by LostCybertronian



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Joe comforts Nicky, M/M, they comfort each other, wanted some post-Merrick hurt/comfort and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:55:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27178883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostCybertronian/pseuds/LostCybertronian
Summary: Post-Merrick, fluffy hurt/comfort where Joe comforts Nicky after he is shot by Keane.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, The Immortal Husbands - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 175





	We Go Together

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone likes this ^^' I just wanted some nice, fluff hurt/comfort.

Somehow they made it up to their hotel rooms without drawing too many odd glances. A miracle, really, with every member of their ragtag team beingThere crusted with dried blood and gore.

Originally the plan had been to pile into one room-- safety in numbers and the ability to see each other, to feel each other breathe-- but Joe took one glance at Nicky’s slightly unfocused expression and glazed-over eyes and butted in between Andy and the receptionist to declare that they would take adjoining rooms, please and thanks.

He caught Andy’s eye as she, Booker, and Nile-- who could barely stand up, her eyelids fluttering and her head dipping forward with unconcealed exhaustion-- were filing through into the adjacent room, answering her unspoken question with a twist of the mouth and a faint nod before steering Nicky inside and letting the door lock behind them.

It was there that Nicky seemed to deflate, his shoulders hunching in while trembling hands reached up to grip handfuls of his blood-matted hair.

_“Amore mio.”_ Joe spun him around gently to face him, prying his hands from his hair and bringing them to his lips to kiss his knuckles. He didn’t need to ask what was wrong, merely pulled him into an embrace and kissed his blood and sweat-stained cheek, then another to his lips. “Why don’t we clean up? I’m sure you will feel better.”

There was a long pause. Then, Nicky released a shaky sigh and nodded.

Eventually they untangled themselves and made it to the bathroom, a cramped cube that felt way too pristine for the ruined clothes they dumped on the floor.

Joe tried not to look at the back of Nicky’s head as they entered the steaming spray. Tried and failed, really; there was just too much blood caked into his scalp, a black-red mess of matted hair and itty bitty bits of bone. It was almost painful, seeing that.

“Hayati,” he breathed, bringing his hands to cup Nicky’s face, studying his features as if he were seeing them for the first time. He looked exhausted. Weary. Scared. “La bas. ‘Ant aman.”

_It is okay. You are safe._

“They locked us up like animals,” Nicky said in Italian, bit out through gritted teeth. He avoided Joe’s eyes, looking instead at their feet. “And when Keane shot me, I- I thought I would be separated from you.” 

Blood swirled down the drain as they stood under the water. Dripped off them in rivulets. Joe suppressed a shudder and reached for the bottle of shampoo hotels were kind enough to give them nowadays. He deposited about half the tiny container into one open palm and began massaging it into Nicky’s scalp.

Nicky dipped his head to make it easier, water cascading over his face. They didn’t speak for several minutes; not until Joe tilted Nicky’s head up, slicking his hair back away from his face with a hand that smelled faintly of lavender.

Nicky took that hand and brought it to cup his face, finally raising his gaze to meet Joe’s. “I did not want you to be alone, Yusef,” he murmured. “I-”

Joe leaned forward to kiss him, lips wet and warm from the spray. “How many times have you told me that we go together? How many times have _I_ told _you?”_

A small smile pulled at the corner of Nicky’s mouth. “Too many,” he answered.

“Exactly.” Joe kissed him again. _“We go together,_ Nicoló.” He reached around Nicky to shut off the shower. “I’m getting all pruny,” he said, and Nicky had to laugh, a laugh that was quickly muffled by another kiss.

They fell into bed without bothering to dress, a tangle of limbs and slow kisses pressed to bare, damp skin, “I love you”s whispered like hymns. 

Hymns Nicky fervently hoped would never fade.


End file.
